


Here's the Deal.

by caswell



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: (for jeremy? not for michael), Alternate Universe - No Squip, Autistic Jeremy, First Kiss, In the first part it's not that big a deal, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 05:36:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12550308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caswell/pseuds/caswell
Summary: Jeremy in Michael are in love with each other. They're also stupid teenage boys. Clearly, somebody's gotta make the first move.





	Here's the Deal.

**Author's Note:**

> wow hey I wrote a meremy fic where they don't have sex or smoke weed!  
> kudos to lesbianmichaelmell on tumblr for helping out with michael's memory scene and to several of my friends for information on judaism!  
> mild emeto warning for the first scene, just a few mentions, dw

Here's the deal.

Jeremy Heere is in love with Michael Mell. It's not a new thing, it's not an old thing, it's just… a _thing._ When you spend half your time with someone and tell them all your secrets… _almost_ all your secrets… and sleep in the same bed sometimes and talk with them about how much they mean to you at one in the morning, it's hard to tell when the platonic feelings faded into something a little more, well, _more._ Thinking back, though, there's one moment where it really and truly clicked into place, one moment where he thought, _Well, shit, I love Michael._

They’re not together, exactly, when it happens. Michael’s sick with pneumonia- in the middle of July, no less; Jeremy didn’t even know that could happen, but Michael’s doctor confirmed it- so, in order to prevent an epidemic, Jeremy’s reluctantly agreed to not go over to the Mell household for the time being. Thanks to the wonders of modern technology, though, they can still hang out, if only to stream videos while talking over Skype. Michael had purchased a better webcam with his Christmas money to replace his laptop's shitty default one, so his distressingly sickly face was in perfect focus; Jeremy tries hard not to show it, but it's a little worrying to see. He wouldn't be calling if he wasn't on the mend and probably going to feel better in a few days, but it still makes Jeremy's stomach twist a little.

Michael's laughing, a low, scratchy chuckle that makes Jeremy's ribs ache, over a video compilation of cats doing dumb shit. It’s the simple things, y’know. You can never go wrong with cat videos. He’s laughing, and it’s turning to coughing, and Jeremy asks, “Dude, you good? Don’t hurl.”

“Ye- yeah,” Michael answers between coughs. Jeremy reminds himself to make sure that particular hoodie got washed before he hugs him next. “I’m good! I haven’t puked in, like, two days. And it doesn’t work like that, Jer.”

“Last time _I_ cough-laughed like that, I puked. Twice.  On your bed.”

Michael rolls his eyes, snorting in amusement as he recalls that particularly disgusting incident. “Yeah, okay, but that was because you were an idiot and did _the bongest hit._ I’m good, alright? Swear on my life.”

“Yeah, alright,” Jeremy says, remaining unconvinced. It’s… a little strange. Something in him must have changed, because the last time one of them was sick like this- well, it was both of them, when there were those faulty flu vaccines in 2014 and both of them were sick as a dog- neither of them really cared. Yeah, there was that ‘aw, sorry you’re sick’ sort of feeling, but they mostly just made fun of each other about it, because that’s what guys do or something. But now, there’s this… this _focus_ in Jeremy’s mind, a protectiveness he’s never felt before, even though Michael’s going to be fine by the end of the week.

“Uh, Jeremy, buddy, what’s up?” Michael asks, speaking over the sound of meowing in the background. “You look… weird. That might just be your webcam, though.”

“N-nothing’s up!” Jeremy says, which is a lie that Michael can probably pick up on. Still, while he gives him a skeptical look, he doesn’t say anything more. Jeremy breathes a sigh of relief. He _felt_ weird, though, felt all… tingly. _Not in a perverted way, though!_ _Gross,_ Jeremy thinks, and sticks out his tongue a little. He’s wracking his brain for a word to describe it, maybe something he’s heard of before, when he realizes. _His laugh makes me hurt,_ he thinks, eyes widening the slightest bit. _And I want to take care of him, even though he’s all gross and sick and would probably get me sick too and even though we’re not allowed to touch right now all I wanna do is hug him._

Michael laughs again, coughs again, and Jeremy realizes that he’s in love.

 

Here’s the deal.

Michael Mell is in love with Jeremy Heere. Truly, madly, _stupidly_ in love, because that’s just who he is as a person. He’s a lover, always has been, and really, when _hasn’t_ he loved Jeremy? He couldn’t begin to count the times he’s thought _Oh, my God, Jeremy, you enormous idiot, I love you so much._ Oh yeah, Michael’s in deep, that’s for sure. It permeates his being, lies in his ribcage like a ticking time bomb that threatens to shatter him at any time. Jeremy is the best and the worst thing that’s ever happened to him.

He doesn’t want to talk about moments where he’s the worst. Michael remembers them well, but he’s _more_ than panic attacks all by himself, he’s _more_ than the boy who's terrified of being rejected. So, he thinks about when he’s the best, when his life rules, when everything feels fine.

Michael can't say for sure if it's his happiest memory, or his favorite, but it _is_ what his brain always goes back to whenever someone asks him about Jeremy: _How's Jeremy doing?_ from his moms, _How's his dick taste?_ from his regular high school tormentors, _How's he so cute?_ from himself. He'd never tell Jeremy about it, though, not _ever._ It's something for himself, something treasured that nobody else gets to know about.

Jeremy's grinning in Michael's mind's eye. There's a sunset, gold and purple and pink, a stunning backdrop behind him, but it's Jeremy who's the most beautiful thing there. Well, not beautiful, exactly, more like cute, cuz he was like 7 years old, but whatever. Jeremy's beautiful _now_ is the point. They're on the Heeres’ swingset, synchronized as Jeremy reaches the peak of the swing’s semicircular arc, the piercing light of the sunset shining on him from behind and painting him angelic.

The view only lasts for a moment, though, because then the two of them are swinging down again and Michael is tumbling down onto the ground and whimpering, glasses threatening to fall off his face. “Aw, crap,” he whines, and Jeremy's eyes open wide because _you're not supposed to say that word, Mikey!_ Still, Jeremy bends down next to him and puts a warm hand on his back.

“Are you okay, Micha?” Jeremy asks, voice a high-pitched squeak.

Dazed, Michael holds his head for a few more moments before inspecting his body for injuries. “Uh, I got a- I got a scrape on my knee,” he answers.

“I-I’ll get Band-Aids!” Jeremy shouts, still not having learnt volume control (the trials of being autistic, but Michael hadn't minded then and he doesn't mind now), but Michael grabs his wrist before he can move. “Wuh…?”

“Um, could you…?” Michael's voice is hushed, as if he's doing something bad, and… he might be. “Could you kiss it?”

And here comes the only unpleasant part of the memory: the panicked look in Jeremy's eyes as he says, “W-we’re in public! We can't kiss!” But it's no big, it's okay, because, in direct defiance of society's rules, Jeremy does it. He glances from side to side first, and it's tiny and Michael hardly feels it, but there it is, his first kiss with Jeremy Heere… kind of.

 

Here's the deal.

Jeremy Heere and Michael Mell are both teenage boys. Therefore, they're both _huge idiots._ They're huge, gay, pining idiots who have absolutely no idea that they like each other despite 100% of the evidence suggesting that they do.

Michael doesn't notice Jeremy's rapt attention when he's talking about the music he's jamming out to or the cool out-of-circulation pop he's spending his allowance on this week or what video games were announced at E3 that he's totally excited for. Jeremy doesn't notice the way that Michael can't take his eyes off of him, how touchy he gets, how he jumps at the opportunity to be with him as if he would disappear if he looked away.

It's impossible to stay clueless forever, though. Sometimes a realization just needs more than hints and subtleties to make itself known.

Michael confesses in May of their senior year. He's a couple months older- eighteen now, while Jeremy, a summer baby, is still seventeen- so that means he should confess first, right? That's his reasoning, although he's not sure what he means by _first,_ as if Jeremy even liked him back. He needs to be honest, though.

    There’s a part of him that’s tempted to make it a huge, dramatic confession. _Everything_ he does is huge and dramatic- his body language, his voice, his feelings- but this is all about Jeremy, and he knows for a fact that Jeremy would absolutely _hate_ that. He’s sensitive to attention, and, even though it was worse when he was younger, a huge banner hung up on the stairs between the freshman and senior lockers would probably embarrass him half to death. So, Michael sets that idea aside and brainstorms better, more subtle ways to tell your best friend you’ve been in love with him for years.

    Michael’s confessed plenty of things to Jeremy over the years, the biggest one being that he was gay, but plenty of smaller ones, like when he revealed he was taking care of a kitten he found outside (one of his moms found out a couple days later and made him take it to the shelter) or the time he finally fessed up about why he got sent to the principal’s office (he'd punched someone for calling Jeremy a homo). Likewise, Jeremy’s bared his soul to Michael numerous times, about being bi, about liking Christine, about how he blamed himself for his mom leaving… so it’s not as if there was a lack of communication in their relationship. It’s just… how would he set up the scene?

    While smoking would probably help ease his anxiety about the entire situation, Michael wants to be sober for once. Self medication is his middle name, but he doesn’t want the memory of a confession to be shrouded by their collective high. _No weed,_ he jots down on his notepad during a particularly boring study hall. Jeremy was sitting right beside him, working on an assignment for his psych class, but Michael was feeling particularly ballsy today or something. Maybe he subconsciously wanted Jeremy to find out on his own so the pressure wouldn’t be on him… but even if it went right, it’d make a huge scene, and they wouldn’t be able to talk to each other for at least three days out of shame- mostly on Jeremy’s part. _Not at school,_ he adds, along with _Not on “accident”._

    By the time he gets home that night- he’d spent a few hours at Jeremy’s after school just to unwind- his list is significantly longer. _No weed, not_ ~~_at school_~~ _in public, not on “accident”, not if Jeremy’s had a bad day, not if_ I’ve _had a bad day, no alcohol either actually just on the off chance that we start drinking before I tell him, not on an empty stomach, not on a school night…_ It’s a decent-sized list, but he’s still no closer to the solution than he was before. Too many don’ts, not enough dos. Michael frowns down at the paper and sighs. “Okay,” he mutters, “actually, fuck this.”

    After hours of wracking his brain, he finally comes up with a game plan. It’s… nothing, really, and he definitely shouldn’t have stressed so much just to end up at the simplest possible idea. “This kid gives me ulcers,” Michael says as he runs his hands through his hair, mussing it up as if he had bedhead. The plan is this:

  1. Invite Jeremy over to his house.
  2. Cook him dinner; nothing special, just enough to make him happy.
  3. Play video games with him for a while. Just until Jeremy's attention starts to drift.
  4. Reel him in with a smooth “By the way, there's something I've been meaning to tell you.”



Assuming that neither of them panic at that point, it's time to confess. Michael rehearses the lines in his head:

 _“It's nothing bad, I swear. Don't be anxious. It's just that I think you're really cute and handsome and I love spending time with you and seeing you is the highlight of my day- no, my_ life- _so… what I'm trying to say is, I like you, Jeremy. As more than a friend.”_

Something like that.

And then he remembers- tomorrow is Friday. It's not a school night. His mothers will be out on a date (lucky them!) since it's their anniversary. One of them just picked up groceries. _Oh my God,_ Michael realizes, _I gotta do it tomorrow._

 

The day's looking up to be pretty good. It's finally the weekend, he's going over to Michael's, he did well on a math test for once… yeah, today's going pretty well for Jeremy. Chaperoned by his father- he's only got his permit, unfortunately, not his license- he drives over to Michael's at about 5pm. Normally he'd just get a ride with Michael back to his place, but Michael said he had to do something after school, so he couldn't. _Well, whatever,_ Jeremy thinks, _probably just had a pressing homework assignment._

When he opens the door with his spare key- _Jeez, we're like a married couple,_ Jeremy thinks with a chuckle- he expects Michael to be waiting for him by the door, as he usually is; this time, though, he's nowhere to be seen. “Micha?” Jeremy calls. “You here, buddy?”

 

_Step one complete._

 

“In the kitchen,” Michael replies, and Jeremy follows his voice. Michael's at the stove, stirring what looks to be a pot of pasta; Jeremy gives him an inquisitive look as he turns to greet him. “Hey, Jer. What's with the face?”

“Uh, it's just… you, like, _never_ make dinner for us,” Jeremy says. “I mean, usually we just order a pizza. I can lend you some money if you need it?”

“Nah, dude, I just wanted to cook,” Michael says, turning back to the pot to stir it so it won’t overflow. “Y’know, wanted to treat you to some homemade Mell goodness.”

“Wow, I _really_ hate the way you said that. You know that, right?” Jeremy pulls out a chair from the table and flops down, a little tired from a long week. “I guess I should thank you, though. I don’t think I’ve ever had your cooking before.”

“Yyyeah, well…” Michael gives an embarrassed-sounding laugh. “I don’t really know how to cook anything but pasta. But hey! It’s something.” Just then, the timer on his microwave beeps loudly, and Jeremy flinches, moving to cover his ears. “Oh! Sorry, sorry, Jer,” Michael says as he turns it off. “Forgot you hate that sound. Anyway, dinner’s ready.”

“Sweet! Sweet,” Jeremy says, shoulders relaxing gradually. “This, um… this feels…” He trails off. _No way, I can’t just say it feels like a date,_ he scolds himself. _I mean, it doesn’t! I just want it to be._ “Nice! It feels nice. I’m sure you make a mean spaghetti and meatballs.”

“Aw, thanks, man,” Michael says with a doofy grin as he sets down a plate in front of Jeremy. “100% beef, by the way, so don’t worry, and no cheese was used in the making of this sauce.”

“Michael Mell, you are a fucking godsend.” Jeremy beams up at him, hardly bothering to conceal the love in his gaze.

 

_Step two complete._

 

Jeremy stretches contentedly on his beanbag, holding his game controller loosely in one hand. “Was your big plan to make me sleepy from eating?” he mumbles, looking at Michael out of the corner of his eye. “That’s cheating, dude. The most laborious method of cheating, yeah, but still cheating.”

“Aw, c’mon, man, where’s the trust?” Michael pouts, flashing Jeremy puppy-dog eyes that melt his brain _and_ his heart. _Can you stop being cute for one fucking second?_ Jeremy says, except he doesn’t say it.

“Alright, fine, fine, but now I gotta bring my A-game,” is what Jeremy _really_ says, with a determined grin. “We goin’ for Brawl or what?”

“Hell yeah, dude. I’m gonna kick your ass, by the way.”

“Oh, in your dreams!”

In the end, Michael doesn’t end up kicking Jeremy’s ass, because Jeremy is a fuckin’ kickass Kirby, but he _does_ get bored after four or so matches. “Hey, Micha,” he says with a yawn, “how ‘bout we just hang out? On your uh… on your bed or something.” _Oh, wow. That’s real smooth, Jeremy._ He picks at the fabric of the beanbag, pulling off fibers from the tattered seams with his fingernails. “Or- or something," he repeats.

 

_Step three complete._

 

“No, yeah, sounds great,” Michael says, giving Jeremy a lopsided smile. Jeremy cocks his head, eyes narrowing. _Why does he look nervous all of a sudden?_ he thinks to himself. _Fuck, am I acting too gay? I mean I know he knows I’m bi but like am I acting too gay for_ him? _Oh shit I am so screwed-_ “Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

 

_Step four complete._

 

Jeremy swallows sharply, body seizing up in panic. _He’s gonna tell me he’s done with me because he knows I have a crush on him and it’s super gross and weird since we’ve been friends since we were, like, babies and that’s gonna fuck it up and he’s probably gonna go off and be best friends with Christine or something oh shit oh shit._ “...Right,” he says, voice shaking a little, and Michael almost looks sad as he hears it. _The hell does that mean?_ “Uh, hit me.”

    Michael takes a deep breath, and Jeremy’s heart sinks. He’s so prepared for a friend-breakup that he barely hears what Michael’s saying. “...It’s just, I think- uh-” Michael looks _flustered_ for some reason, and Jeremy blinks in confusion, but then he continues, looking braver now. “I think you’re really cute. And handsome! And I like- _love_ hanging out with you, and seeing you is the highlight of my life… I like you a lot. In a more-than-friends way.”

    “You what.” Jeremy’s voice is flat; he has no idea what to do other than stare blankly at Michael, who’s watching him with wide, nervous eyes. “You. You what?”

    “I _like_ you Jeremy. No, wait-” Michael spreads his arms in a grand gesture, making Jeremy giggle a little. “I _love_ you, Jeremiah Heere.”

Holy shit. Was this actually happening? A blush finally rises to Jeremy’s face as the gravity of the situation hits him. “Wai-wai-wait,” he says, and he realizes suddenly that whoa, his wrists hurt like hell, has he been flapping his hands this entire time? _Cut it out, dude._ “So- so- so. So. You like me?” he asks. “Like, no jokes? What the fuck? What the fuck?”

Michael laughs nervously, rubbing his hands together in his lap. “You uh, you sound kinda mad there, Jer Bear.”

“No! Nononono,” Jeremy reassures him, shaking his hands frantically. “I’m just- oh man! Oh, dude, that’s- that’s amazing! That’s awesome!” He has no idea what else to do, so he just follows his first impulse: launch himself into Michael’s arms.

Michael catches him with a grunt, and, instead of forcing him away like Jeremy half-expected, hugs him close. “I’m not joking!” he says. “Dude, Jer, I really like you! For real!”

“Shit, Michael, I, like-” Jeremy wriggles free from Michael’s grasp just slightly so he can look him in the eyes. “Dude, I’ve loved you for like… probably years maybe? I just thought you wouldn’t like me back? I dunno. So I just never said anything.”

“Of _course_ I like you back,” Michael says, almost sounding hurt by the thought. “Jeremy, who else on earth would I like except you? You’re like… the only guy at this school that I think is even remotely cute, cuz half the time their personalities make ‘em ugly but _you-_ you’re beautiful, holy shit.”

Jeremy’s face goes redder, which is apparently cute or something, because Michael grins when Jeremy feels the blood rush to his face. “Beautiful, huh?” he murmurs. “Well, that’s a new one. Ugh, I just-” He wriggles around again, needing _something_ to do with all the energy in him. “I dunno what to do now, I mean, this has never happened to me before, so?”

“Just- just embrace it, Jeremy!” Michael says, and his smile has never been brighter. “I mean, if we both like each other, we can…?”

There’s a lull in the conversation for a few moments before Jeremy realizes Michael was waiting for him to speak. “Oh! We can um… hold hands?” _Ew, okay, except mine are kinda sweaty._ “...Or kiss? We can kiss.” He’s still for a moment, nervous at having suggested it, but Michael looks like he’s about to scream with joy.

“You wanna kiss? Dude, we can totally kiss!” Michael exclaims. “...Can I kiss you?”

“Oh man, _please,_ will you kiss me?” Jeremy begs, and Michael does, and it’s… nothing like what he thought it’d be like, but it’s so much _better._ It’s not life-changing, it’s not this insanely new feeling that drives him crazy, but it’s so familiar and so warm and it’s so _Michael_ and he loves Michael so he of _course_ loves kissing Michael. And then, _and then,_ Michael puts a gentle hand on the small of his back and Jeremy’s fuckin’ _melting_ over here man.

Michael pulls away eventually, and Jeremy’s tempted to chase his lips, but he doesn’t, although he does whine a little. “Jeez, ya baby,” Michael laughs, “calm down.”

“Yeah, but Michael,” Jeremy says, “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for like… months on end, dude.”

“And I’ve been waiting years!” Michael says, and his breathy chuckle nearly knocks Jeremy unconscious. “I just need to breathe, man. I'm congested.” He pauses. “Oh shit, I planned this thing out and then like… I forgot I have a cold, oh my God. I just didn't expect you to say yes so I didn't think we'd be kissing?”

“I would suffer a _million_ colds for you,” Jeremy proclaims, throwing a dramatic hand over his heart, “the most beautiful boy on Earth!”

Michael bumps Jeremy playfully on the shoulder with his fist. “Jeez, Jer, you flatter me!” There's silence for a couple seconds, an oddly… _passionate_ one, is the only word Jeremy can think to describe it as, as he and Michael lock eyes. Finally, Michael says, “So uh… what do you, uh. Wanna… do about it.”

“Shit, I dunno,” Jeremy says, and snorts in laughter. “I mean, I didn’t think this through. I didn’t think I’d have my _best friend_ proclaim his love to me today, like, I wasn’t _planning.”_

“That’s okay, I didn’t expect you to plan or anything, Jer,” Michael says. “It’s just- like- I mean, we could go on some dates, or we could just be boyfriends now cuz fuck it, or I guess we could not date at all but I don’t think that’s what you want? Tell me that’s not what you want.”

“Of _course_ that’s not what I want!” Jeremy says. “I really wanna date you, dude. I’m gonna date the _shit_ outta you. But I mean. I already _know_ you, what’s the point of going on dates like it’s a test?”

“So you uh, you wanna be boyfriends… now?” Michael asks, and there’s a hopeful bliss in his voice that makes Jeremy’s heart grow wings and soar, although that sounds kinda cheesy and lame but _whatever._ So Jeremy nods vigorously, and in a second he’s pulled tight to Michael’s chest again. “My _boyfriend,_ oh my God,” Michael whispers into the crook of Jeremy’s neck.

“My boyfriend,” Jeremy repeats. Nothing has ever felt more natural as it rolls off his tongue. “But we’re still best friends, too, right?”

“Of course we’re best friends,” Michael says, and the laugh he gives reverberates through Jeremy’s body, and he feels like he’s dissolving into him, and it’s the best thing he’s ever felt. “I mean, dude, the life I have with you now is amazing. Playing video games and going to the mall and stuff? It’s like crack to me. Just… it’s cool that there’s gonna be more kissing now.”

“Speaking of,” Jeremy asks, “can we kiss some more? Like, right now? Is that cool with you?”

“That is the coolest thing I have ever heard of in my life,” Michael answers, a smirk crossing his features, and in a moment, his lips are flush against Jeremy’s again, and then his forehead and his cheeks and the tip of his nose but always coming back to his lips.

Jeremy’s still in a state of disbelief, almost certain he’s dreaming, that he’ll wake up to his alarm clock blaring and a pounding headache. But Michael keeps kissing, and Jeremy keeps kissing back. His hand is on Michael’s cheek, Michael’s hand is on his back and _oh,_ under his shirt, rubbing circles there, and Jeremy can’t keep from grinning. He almost says something to break the near-silence- something along the lines of _I can’t believe you’re actually kissing me-_ but he decides not to ruin a good thing with self-deprecation as he usually does.

It’s Michael who speaks first, in the end, moving back from Jeremy by no more than a centimeter. “So,” he asks, “how’s that feel?”

“Feels like my best f- _boy_ friend is the greatest kisser ever,” Jeremy answers, voice soft and carrying a smile. It’s probably not true- yeah, Michael’s kissed people before, but he’s still kind of an amateur, and Jeremy is hopelessly inexperienced- but he’ll be damned if this isn’t the best feeling in the world.

“You wanna see more?” Michael says, voice low, and the skin on Jeremy’s arms turns to gooseflesh.

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Jeremy answers, and the feeling of Michael pushing him over and kissing him hard is going to be in his dreams forever.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading !!! I love you!  
> PS the weed puke thing did actually happen to me except I threw up in the bathroom like a good stoner


End file.
